


Worth the Wait

by Unfeathered



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mild Kink, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-31
Updated: 2008-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:49:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23820352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unfeathered/pseuds/Unfeathered
Summary: Jack's used to the Doctor keeping him waiting.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Jack Harkness, The Doctor/Jack Harkness
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Worth the Wait

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](https://unfeathered.livejournal.com/70499.html) on 31 January 2008
> 
> Written for the [Second Doctor Who/Torchwood Porn Battle](http://joanne-c.livejournal.com/711738.html) for the prompt: "Ten/Jack, Waiting"

Jack's used to the Doctor keeping him waiting. The old Doctor – the version Jack travelled with before – loved to lay him out and gaze at him, forbid him to move, make him wait. Leave him there till he was trembling with anticipation, till his muscles couldn't hold position any longer, then swoop down on him and kiss him, touch him, turn him inside out with sensation. The stimulation was always so much more intense after so long waiting for it.

Back then, the waiting was hard for Jack. He was young, full of life, impatient to get on with living, and not used to having to wait for anything.

Jack's much, much better at waiting now. He's waited a hundred and forty years for this, after all – and the last year of those was harder than the other hundred and thirty-nine combined – what's a few more minutes, or hours, on top of that?

Anyway, he's enjoying himself far too much to want to hurry things along now.

This Doctor is currently demanding every ounce of the patience Jack's developed over those hundred and forty years. Jack's on his stomach on the Doctor's bed, arms and legs spread, head turned away from the Doctor, so he can't see him staring at him. Not that he needs to – he can feel the weight of the Doctor's gaze on the bare skin of his shoulders, his spine, his ass, his thighs. He can _almost_ feel the Doctor seeing past the pure, unblemished skin to the scars beneath, that disappear each time he dies: the bullet wounds, the knife cuts, the whip marks, the finger-shaped bruises, the burns from a laser screwdriver. All symbols of that final year of waiting. All still there, where Jack can feel them, but out of sight.

Out of sight, out of mind. He's not going to think about them now.

"So beautiful, you are, Jack," the Doctor whispers, right on cue to distract him, and Jack shivers, flesh tingling as if the Doctor's voice was a caress.

Yet the Doctor still makes him wait some more. They both need to take this slowly, to recover from a year of being touched in the wrong way, and to be sure that the Master's ghostly presence isn't going to get between them here.

When the Doctor finally deigns to touch Jack, it's with long, slow strokes over his skin; long, slender fingers trailing across his shoulders, along his spine, over his ass, down the backs of his thighs. Still keeping Jack waiting, wanting more.

It isn't until he's quivering with anticipation, so attuned to every touch that it's like his skin is on fire, that he finally – _finally_ – feels slicked fingers slide down the crack of his ass and into him. Jack lets out a long, shaky breath and lets the Doctor in eagerly, feeling the unfamiliar long, narrow fingers swirling and pushing and spreading until the Doctor's sure he's ready.

By the time the Doctor's cock finally pushes into him, Jack's way past ready. He's relaxed still, and not trying to hurry the Doctor, but he's definitely more than ready. He grunts as he's filled, and at last he moves, urged up onto his knees by the Doctor's hands.

The Doctor isn't taking it slowly any longer. The pace he sets is hard and fast and it's _exactly_ what Jack needs. He pushes back, taking as much as the Doctor will give him, _making_ him give more.

Jack comes first, noisy and violently; the Doctor quickly follows, intense and near-silent. They collapse together on the bed, side by side, wrung-out and smiling.

"Worth the wait?" the Doctor asks, a little smug, a little unsure.

Jack grins back, one trembling hand reaching out to stroke the Doctor's hair. "Always," he says gently.

It's always worth the wait.


End file.
